


On the Couch

by My_Alter_Ego



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Session with a psychiatrist, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Alter_Ego/pseuds/My_Alter_Ego
Summary: Neal would rather be doing other things on a couch besides talking to a shrink.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Kudos: 27





	On the Couch

Neal was dragging his heels about this latest mandate. It was just days after he and Peter had inadvertently walked into what could only be described as a charnel house. They were intending to pay a visit to the home of a suspected art thief, but, apparently, the dude was a multi-tasker who also trafficked in underage girls. Somehow, he had been tipped off and fled, but not before destroying evidence. Neal felt physically ill as he saw young females, little more than children, splayed out on the floor amidst pools of congealing blood that had turned black. Each face, that should have looked innocent, was now contorted in the rictus of fear. Perhaps this is what hell looked like.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Neal, this is protocol for agents who have witnessed something very traumatic,” Peter said patiently after explaining that Neal would have to have a session with the Bureau’s shrink.

“I don’t need anybody probing inside my head!” Neal was adamant.

Peter sighed. “Look, Buddy, I already had my session, and Hughes is insistent that you go, as well.”

“That’s just a CYA move on his part,” Neal snorted. “I can sign a waiver to get the old man off my back.”

“Not happening, Neal,” Peter replied firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Your CI is buttoned up as tight as a clam,” the in-house psychiatrist remarked to Peter the next day.

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” Peter agreed.

“Any chance more sessions might get him to open up?” the shrink wanted to know.

“Probably not,” Peter said with a shrug.

“Some couch time could be beneficial, although we can’t make him come to us,” the man conceded.

“He’ll be fine,” Peter ended the conversation.

Later that afternoon, as a handler gazed at his CI in the bullpen, he realized that Neal had probably needed help years ago, most likely when he was growing up. Peter didn’t know everything; he just suspected bits and pieces of the puzzle that was Neal Caffrey. The con man’s catchphrase was always a flippant, “I’m fine,” and Peter had defaulted to using it today. Deep down, Peter really hoped that was true.


End file.
